


Vikings

by Anonymous



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Secret Santa, They are actually fighting each other, VIKINGS AU, physical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:55:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Vikings X Bughead
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cattycooper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattycooper/gifts).



> Happy Secret Santa Gift from your not assigned Secret Santa.

The camp was alive that morning. It always was on days such as these.

The day that the new King was chosen.

Every man, woman, and child from the surrounding Clan's met to determine whose warrior would lead. Anyone was welcome to cast their hand into the ring, as long as they were able to fight and fight fairly. Every year the numbers grew, boys grew into men, certain that they could rise to the occasion. Many Vikings have stood to fight, and many of them fell.

Except for one.

One warrior from the Southside clan, the son of the current King, a warrior named Jughead, who had been her only competition for near five years. Now, on the cusp of a harvest moon, they were to meet each other in battle once more. The final two to fight, and ascertain who would lead the forces. She had vowed that she would not fail. It had been a particular sting that he had bested her the year prior, and one she had no intention of repeating again.

She stepped into the ring, her armor strapped tightly to her body, her sword gripped tightly into her hand. He was already there, waiting for her, his sword hanging loosely at his side. That infuriating smirk twisting on his lips.

"Ah. I feared you’d forfeited this year, finally realized that it was pointless to challenge me."

Betty took cool calculated steps into the ring. Apart from Jughead’s marked size advantage, he was slower than she was. He had also not learned that necessity for humility. His arrogance had been his downfall before, it would be his downfall again. "And rob you of the exercise? Why would I do such a thing."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I happen to get plenty of exercise." His meaning was clear, and the scowl that darkened her face at the lecherous grin sprawled across his made his grin grow even larger.

"Perhaps I was hoping to further your instruction. With a little practice, you might even be a warrior," she taunted, watching his feet as he crossed his left foot over his right and took a calculated step to the side. She followed suit, mirroring his stance as they began to circle.

"Strange, I believe it was I that bested you last year."

She shrugged and brushed a thin curl out of her eye. "Yes well, even a blind squirrel occasionally finds a nut." Color stained the top of his cheeks as irritation settled upon his brow, she inwardly grinned. It was rare that she was able to penetrate her opponent's reserve so quickly.

"Let's let the victor settle the argument. Here's to history repeating itself." With that, he flew at her. His sword soared through the air and she easily deflected the blow with her shield, dancing to the right in order to maintain the distance between them, circling, analyzing. It was not wise to strike first. He was headstrong, and it was a foolishly bold first move.

"At least you've learned how to use your sword, has your mother been teaching you?" His teeth gritted and he lunged again. He came too fast for her to dodge, so she dove to the side, rolling along her back and back up to her feet.

He was after her in a moment, sword flying for her steel to ring as it clashed against his. "Indeed, right after your husband, brought me my ale.” Fury raged within her as pushed hard against him with her shield before letting her blade lash out towards him. "Oh, that's right. Who would marry the likes of you…"

They fought then, in earnest. The heel of Jughead’s sword bucking into her cheekbone. Her legs moving forward to buckle the back of his knee. With a well-armed swipe, he lost his shield, and he tossed his sword into his other hand as they circled.

"Pretty good for a girl."

She readjusted her grip, her head dipping to the side. "I could say the same for you." She lunged, and they fought anew. She had the upper hand, and she hit him heavy and hard. Her sword flying, her shield pushing.

He crouched down in a whirl and kicked her legs out from under her. Her shield sat inches to the side, but Jughead was already rising above her, sword positioned for the kill. She kicked her legs back and rolled onto her feet.

They moved as if swept into the sea, their bodies an endless sea of twisting and meshing. They fought for long, longer then they had ever fought before. With renewed vigor they battled, sweat beaded upon her brow as her shoulders ached with the force of her blows. Jughead looked as winded as she, but if the sharp set of determination cemented on his jaw was any indication he was not going to give up without a fight.

His sword lifted up, swinging down at her. She brought her own sword up her sword vibrated by the assault. It held as he pressed down at her, and she knew, she knew that she was in the vulnerable position. He was taller than her, bigger, stronger, with sheer strength alone she would not win. A victorious smile gleamed into her face and she refused to accept it as her own defeat. With a show of strength, she did not know she possessed her left hand shot down grabbing her knife from her belt and flashing it to his throat.

The world stilled, the pressure from Jughead's hands above her lifted as the arena around them grew quiet. He swallowed thickly against her blade.

Her lungs were heaving, but she was still able to speak. "Perhaps next time I'll get to fight a man."

She brought the knife away from his neck, letting her lips tug up into a smirk of her one.

To his credit, he did not look as irate as she was sure he felt at that moment. He had been bested, and bested by a woman. He would have a lot to answer for when he returned to his clan. When he had to answer for the fact the Northside would lead them this year. Instead, he dipped his head to her, covering his heart with his fist in respect as he gave her a short bow.

She returned the gesture, sheathing her knife back into her waist.

She moved forward. The king was standing, waving his hands in appreciation. It was her duty to accept her new position before the representatives of the clans. She took a step, falling short as her opponent did not retreat to allow her through. She looked up at him, confusion arching through her as she registered the close proximity of their faces.

"I assure you," he said quietly, "the next time we meet, you will have no question on the state of manhood."

With that, he was gone, and she was left reeling as to what he meant as she walked to accept her prize. Riverdale's Crown. 


	2. Two

The changing of power was infinitely more exhausting then she’d remembered it. When Hiram Lodge finally lost power, she’d been a child, so she didn’t remember most of what it entailed. She definitely hadn’t been in the center of it, hadn’t been the one the crown was being passed to.

Her mother had been furious she hadn’t been invited to live in the King’s lodge, but Elizabeth had no intention of letting her mother influence the rule of Riverdale.

The world’s upheaval as the old King’s things were moved out, and the new Queen’s things were moved in was as hectic as the night of the solstice.

There would be no rest, not for her, not for a very long time.

But this was what she’d wanted. She wanted the crown. She wanted to usher Riverdale into a new era.

She was thumbing through the supply room, trying to stay out of the way of an irate Gladys, until the Jones family moved completely out. A scuff of a door signaled someone’s approach. It must be Archie, her friend and one of her warriors, coming to inform her of the Jones exodus.

She turned, but not to catch sight of red hair, it was to lock onto a familiar pair of blue eyes.

Her hand immediately moved to the knife at her hip.

“I’m not here to attack you,” Jughead said from his place next to the door.

“Oh?”

“Yes, I think we’ve fought enough for today.” She considered his statement but did not relinquish her hold on the hilt of her knife. He held up his hands between them, showing her quite plainly that he was unarmed. “I intend you no harm.”

“For now,” she said firmly.

He shook his head. “You’re naturally suspicious, aren’t you?”

“Considering I’ve usurped your family from the royal lodge I can hardly believe that you’re here to wish me well. We’ve been on the opposite side for a very long time. I understand how these things work.”

He kept his hands up. “I actually came to offer my services.”

Her gaze narrowed as she analyzed him. He was a fierce warrior, a tremendous fighter, and was considered integral to the Southside’s army, but he was also a Jones. Family to those she’d already heard whispers of betrayal from. Nothing good could come from his inserting himself into her reign. Nothing at all.

“What services?”

“I led my father’s raids for the last six years. I know the countryside, I know where we’ve previously conquered. I can help you.” He lowered his hands between them, but he didn’t move. “I also know what will be required of your position. I can help you navigate until you get a handle on things.”

Their eyes held for a long time.

“And what exactly would you want in return? For all this good-natured assistance.”

“A warm bed. That is all.”

She huffed, removing her hand from the hilt of her weapon. “Would you do the same? If you were in my position. Would you accept the son, of what certainly will be one of my future challenger's, help? The warrior you conquered hours before, when you know he’s most likely there just to feed information back to his father?”

A small smile twisted on his lips. “You have me figured out. I see.”

  
“No,” she said plainly. She hadn’t had him figured out, but that didn’t stop her from trying. They read each other for a long time. Her mind roving like the flight of birds from shore. He was most certainly there to spy on her, but having him there, and knowing what he was up to would end up being more beneficial than letting him and his father conspire out of her line of sight. “Alright.”

He perked up. He was already tall, but her affirmation seemed to make his imposing form grow another several inches.

“I will accept your help, in exchange for quarters. You can even keep the ones you had before if you’d like. It’s better to keep your enemies close.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought the saying stated 'Friends were meant to be kept close, enemies closer'?”

She saucily angled her head, “Are you looking to move?”

His gaze lowered, “I’ll stay where I’m at. Thank you. You will not regret your decision.”

She lifted her head as she eased her way around him, “See that I don’t.”

Then she left him with the supplies to seek out her new chambers.


End file.
